


Movie Magic

by HopelessHeartless



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boyfriends, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Facials, Filthy, I am truly depraved trash, M/M, Movie Night, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, okay maybe a tiny bit of plot, yooseven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22065067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopelessHeartless/pseuds/HopelessHeartless
Summary: “Oh, come on. Those mouth-breathers didn’t hear us making out; they’re not going to notice if I suck your ****."Seven gives Yoosung a movie night to remember.**Slight content warning if you're squeamish about certain... emissions**
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel/Kim Yoosung
Comments: 7
Kudos: 315





	Movie Magic

**Author's Note:**

> It's naughty. There's jizz.
> 
> Seven has a dirty mouth. 
> 
> I have very few regrets.

Yoosung tastes like candy; he always does. Seven sucks a sweet strawberry blush from his lover’s tongue, fingers teasing softly at the barely exposed jut of his hip.

“Mm—ah, not here,” Yoosung whimpers, and Seven falls back into his seat with an exasperated sigh.

“Babe,” he protests, “The theater is empty.” Yoosung points sternly toward a group of university students several rows in front of them, every last one of them deeply engrossed in the film. “Oh, come _on_. Those mouth-breathers didn’t hear us making out; they’re not going to notice if I suck your cock.”

On cue, Yoosung’s still-quite-present erection twitches in his jeans. He shifts to relieve the pressure, then lowers his already quiet voice to a barely audible whisper.

“Seven, you know I can’t keep quiet when I… you know.”

“When you cum in my mouth?” 

“Seven! Shh.”

“Babe, nobody is listening! Look,” says Seven, and he begins to softly moan and curse aloud. “ _Ohh… oh, fuck, daddy 707, I’m gonna shoot my hot load all over your face and tongue…_ ”

With a yelp, Yoosung claps a clammy palm over Seven’s mouth, stifling the flow of lewd sounds. 

“All right, all right, you’ve made your point! Just… don’t make me scream, okay?” 

Seven fakes a pout.

“Isn’t that what this sweatshirt gag is for?” He flaps a loose sleeve gently against Yoosung’s mouth and smiles. “Okay, baby. No screaming, I promise.”

On his knees, Seven crawls between Yoosung’s legs and reaches for his waistband. It takes only moments to free his boyfriend’s hard cock from his pants, and he's immediately grateful for all the practice that has come before. Surreptitiously bringing this quiet little masochist to orgasm in public places has become a fascinating and all-consuming game. 

“Christ, Yoosung, look at you,” he marvels, slowly teasing the purple head with a few soft fingers. Yoosung squirms, his jaw dropping open in a silent whine. His brow furrows deeply, telling Seven that his torturous touch is just right. Seven watches with admiration as his lover’s aching cock begins to ooze with shiny pre-cum. He takes it with his thumb and smears it—slowly and deliberately—around Yoosung’s swollen tip.

_“Ah, Seven...”_

Yoosung’s moan snaps Seven’s mental restraints, and he wraps his hot mouth and tongue around his now throbbing plaything. The sensation of the stiff shaft under his tongue, the way he can almost feel Yoosung’s pulse—it pushes him over the edge into a frenzy of animal lust each and every time. 

As Seven sucks him, Yoosung fucks deeper and deeper into his throat, ass muscles clenching and releasing in blissful agony. For a moment, he recalls the first time: a LOLOL bet, a surprising confession, a long and sleepless night of exploration. Even now, the thought of Seven’s long, lean body as he’d slipped from his clothing that evening makes blood rush painfully to Yoosung’s already overstimulated erection.

Seven’s rich, honey-colored eyes look up to meet his prey’s, sending shocks through the both of them. Yoosung grips the sides of his theater seat, abdomen tensing as he approaches what threatens to be an earth-shattering climax. _Don’t scream_ , he reminds himself. _Do. Not. Scream._

Seven hums with satisfaction, pressing his boyfriend hard against the back of his throat. The vibrations make Yoosung whine and jerk his hips, and Seven holds him down with firm hands. Slowly, he pulls his slick tongue and lips back up the length of his lover and smiles.

“You wanna come, baby?” 

The moan that filters through Yoosung’s gritted teeth is nearly a sob, but it is an undeniable “yes.” He extends his tongue and teases the sensitive head of Yoosung’s cock until it is purple and bobbing desperately against his lips. Seven wets his palm with long, sensual licks of his tongue.

“You be a good boy and give me everything you have,” he purrs, and begins to pump his tightly-wrapped hand slowly up and down Yoosung’s aching hard-on. The poor boy shakes and shudders under Seven’s touch, and he presses both hands hard over his mouth to stifle his inhuman groans. When he finally looks down at Seven through blurry, squinting eyes, Yoosung finds his tormentor’s mouth wide open, a wet, pointed tongue straining to catch his climax.

The feeling of orgasm is always incredible when Seven brings him to it, but the greatest pleasure comes when Seven desires him like this, when he sees the thick streams of cum jet out over his lover’s face and pool into the curve of his hungry tongue. Yoosung’s restraint fails, and he screams into his hands as he comes.

Seven relishes the moment, doing his best to commit yet another of Yoosung’s beautiful orgasm faces to perfect memory. His face and tongue are soon absolutely covered in hot, dripping cum, and it makes him feel not like a slave, but like a god. Sweet, muffled screams replay again and again in Seven’s mind as he swallows, and he rubs Yoosung’s thighs lovingly with slightly sticky palms.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” Seven tells the beautiful man gasping before him. Yoosung wets his dry lips with his tongue and smiles weakly. 

“I screamed,” he says with a small blush. Seven shrugs coyly.

“We all make mistakes,” he replies, leaning forward to place a tender kiss on Yoosung’s still shuddering stomach. His lips are messy with cum, and they leave a glossy print that Yoosung covers with his shirt as he rights himself again.

As his wits return, Yoosung nervously scans the theater for signs of trouble. To his great relief, the students remain apparently undisturbed by their exploits. Satisfied, he turns to watch as his boyfriend wipes the evidence of his pleasure from his face with a handful of concession stand napkins. Seven catches his eye and gives a flirtatious wink. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Seven asks as he stuffs the soiled napkins into an empty soda cup. Yoosung nods.

“Mm, I guess we’ve already lost the plot of the movie already, anyway.”

Weak-kneed, Yoosung carefully stands and shuffles into the aisle. For a moment, Seven marvels at the way his love's disheveled hair falls into his eyes, hair clips now loose and out of place. He reaches into his pocket to find a silver band with his fingertips. It’s still there, still waiting for the perfect moment. 

As they push through the theatre doors, Yoosung flashes a gorgeous smile. 

“Hey, how about we head back to your place for a little gaming tournament? Winner gets whatever they want from the loser,” he says, sing-song.

“I’m gonna win,” Seven replies proudly. “I always do.” With a devious sparkle in his eyes, Yoosung giggles.

“I know, but even if I lose, I know I’m still gonna _win_.”

Seven palms the ring in his pocket and grins broadly.

“Ah, my sweet. You can’t even _imagine_.”


End file.
